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ADDRESS 



DELIVERED AT THE 



CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION 



INCORPORATION OF NEW BOSTON, 



\ 



NEW HAMPSHIRE, 



J U T. T 4 , 18 6 3, 



BY CLARK B. COCHRANE. 



ALBANY, N. Y. : 
J. MIINSELL, PRINTER. 

1863, 









•TurmmaKamBK 



A D D K E S S 



There is a sentiment in tlie human heart answering to 
the summons which brings us to this feast of memory. 
"We gather ut this centre of interest and friendship, from 
distant homes and varied lines of life, in obedience to 
a common instinct of our nature. Attachment to the 
place of birth, the scenes of childhood, the home of kindred 
and the burial grounds of our fathers, springs from an 
affection inherent in our humanit}'. As the exhausted 
tides, by an irresistible law of nature, roll back to their 
ocean home, so through' their deepest channels the warm 
and wearied currents of the soul return to the associations, 
the play-grounds, the companions of early years. Wlien 
the patriarch Joseph, looking to the promised Exodus, 
though wearing the second honors of Egypt, gave his 
brethren "commandment concerning his bones," he did 
but express a desire instinctive and common to mankind 
under all conditions and in every age. 

" Breathes there the man with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 
This is my own, my native land ! 
Whose heart hath ne'er witliin liim burned, 
As home his footsteps he hatli turned, 
From wandering on a foreign strand !" 



You, who have continued to occupy the old domain and 
inherit the paternal soil, have never felt and therefore 
cannot appreciate the power of those ties which link the 
heart of the emigrant to the home of his youth. It is re- 
corded of Abraham as a test of eminent faith, that when 
the command came " get thee out of thy country and from 
thy kindred and from thy father's house," he " departed as 
the Lord had spoken." It is the wanderer whose dreams 
are of the " fireside afar." 'Tis in the land of strangers, 
I'emote from former friends, away from all that had been 
loved and left behind, in the distant pursuits of fortune or 
fame, and amid the perplexities of trade, the exhaustion 
of mind, the disappointments, toils and tumults of liurried 
life, that our thoughts dwell in the past and our weary 
spirits pant for the green fields of youth, and the spring 
time of life. 

"With us, from whom the bloom and blessings of young 
existence, have long since departed, the memory of its 
scenes, the attachments it formed, the places it loved, and 
the objects it cherished, retain a freshness and power which 
years and absence serve only to increase. 

" Time but the impression deeper makes, 
As streams tlieir channels deeper wear." 

As the drear}' winds and falling leaves of autumn, force 
a sigh for the balmy air and vernal glories of the opening 
year, so the weariness and burdens of ripening age, drive 
our thoughts back to the sunny season of youth and hope, 
when exempt from cares and sheltered by a mother's love, 
the present had no sorrows, and to the eye of young ambi- 
tion, the future no clouds. 

" Who has not felt how growing use endears, 
The fond remembrance of our former years ; 
Who has not sighed when doomed to leave at last, 
The hopes of youth, the habits of the past, 



Tlie tliousaud ties atul interests tliui imi)!irt. 
A second nature to the human heart, 
And wi'eathing round it close, like tendrils climb, 
Blooming with age and sanctified by time." 

The present is an opportunity long wished for — at length 
enjoj'ed. We are here for no purpose of gain or amliition, 
to inaugurate no enterprise which might hokl out to the 
greedy eye of capital promised returns of wealth and pow- 
er, we come to contend for none of those glittering but 
delusive prizes wliich tempt the feet of this world's vota- 
ries to the arena of discord and strife. Far diiierent is 
our mission — ours is a jiilgrimage of the heart — an errand 
of friendship — the presentation of a united social oft'ering 
to the homes and the days of "Laug Syne." The selfish 
passions of the soul are left behind, and all its nobler im- 
pulses, all its kindlier sensibilities arc called into highest 
activity. 

It would be difficult to imagine an occasion which, for 
us, could possess greater interest. 

New Boston, our native town, the home we loved and 
left, has made a banquet for her absent children, and we 
are here. Driving along the distant avenues and dusty 
ways of life, we heard the mother's call, and we have hur- 
ried home to partake of her hospitality and receive her 
grateful welcome. 

Fellow townsmen, neighbors, kinsmen, friends, we thank 
you for this pul>lic expression of your kind rememl>rance, 
for this most generous greeting, this grand and aifectiouate 
reception — for this "feast of reason and flow of soul." 
The table which you have with so much liberality spread 
before us, is wanting in no luxury which may tempt the 
social appetite. Decked and perfumed with the choicest 
flowers of memory, sparkling with nectar which the gods 
yield only to the lips of earliest and truest friendships, and 
twined with evergreens connecting the present with a 



cherished past, we approach it as the one entertainment, 
the crowning festival of our lives. 

After long years of separation and varied vicissitudes, 
we meet again at the place from whence we went out. 
"We parted as friends, as friends we meet ; we left in the 
bloom of life and hope, we return faded by time and worn 
by cares. Our several ways have led us in widely diver- 
gent lines. Our lots have been cast in places remote from 
you and from each other. But neither absence or distance, 
prosperity or adversity, successes or disappointments have 
served to wean our hearts from the friends and firesides we 
left behind, or make us foi'get the woods and the streams, 
the hills and the valleys, the rocks and the glens with 
which we communed when life was new. From the west- 
ern prairies, from the shores of the great lakes, from the 
valley of the Hudson, from the commercial metropolis of 
the continent, from the cities and villages of the Atlantic 
seaboard, from the manufacturing towns and along the 
rivers and among the mountains of our own New England, 
animated with one spirit and impelled by a single impulse, 
we have hastened to join this reunion of kindred hearts 
and here, at the common source of our several life-streams, 
once more drink together at the pure fountains of child- 
hood, and renew our strength for what remains of life's 
battle amid the bracing air and among the bracing friends 
of our rocky home. 

The circumstances under wliieh we are reassembled are 
peculiarly happy in their combination, and are such as can 
rarely occur in the history of any local community. The 
day, the year, the preparation, the gathering, the scene, all 
unite in crowding within the limits of a few passing hours 
the highest social pleasures, the most hallowed recollections 
of a life time. 

It is, indeed, a genial and joj^ous occasion — a grateful 
halting place by the wayside of life — a green spot to which 



T"^"^'" 



we gladly turn aside from the heated and bustling ways 
over which we are driven along, to pass a brief season in 
fraternal salutations, in happy greetings, in pleasant and 
cheerful intercourse, to meet old friends and revive former 
friendships, to recall the innocent sports, the delightful 
scenes, the genial memories of early years ; to inquire of you 
and of each other how it has fared with us during these many 
years of separation ; what joys, what sorrows, what suc- 
cesses, what reverses, what lights and what shadows have 
checkered life. 

As the present is a time for gladness, so also it is a time 
for retrospect and gratitude, as well. We rejoice at the 
multiplied evidences of your prosperity — that the ancient 
character of the old town for industry, enterprise, hospi- 
tality and intelligence has sustained no detriment at your 
hands. If you have received from us a less revenue of 
honor and credit than you had reason to expect, you can 
not justly reproach us with having brought upon the names 
we bear or the lineage we claim, the taint of disgrace or 
dishonor. Between you who have remained and us who 
have returned let there be the full flow of fraternal fellow- 
ship and generous gratulations, chastened by a grateful 
sense that whatever of good fortune has attended either, is 
due to that benignant Being, who " tempers the winds to 
the shorn lamb," and who, of all true, good and right living, 
is at once " The friend, inspirer, guardian and reward." 

Since coming among you, we have not failed to make 
the most of time and opportunity — we have lived youth 
over again. Leaving age and cares, we have gone back 
into the past. "We have reveled in a full harvest of fami- 
liar scones and animating recollections. 

The earth and air are fragrant with childhood memories. 
The noise of rural industry, the lowing of herds, the mur- 
mur of streams, the hum of bees, the varied song of birds, 
the drum of the partridge and the voice of the whippowill, 



sounds which miugled with life's earliest dreams, have 
been again heard among our native hills. "We have stood 
and gazed upward, once more, full in the face of old Jo. 
English, whose stately form and solemn features impressed 
our infant thoughts, and whose rugged ascent and airy 
summit first tempted the ambitious adventures of our boy- 
hood. "We have again followed the famous Piscataquog, 
still winding its resolute way through the heart of the old 
township, reminding us, at every turn, of " home and 
friends and that sweet time," when, boys togethei", we 
listened to its music, bathed in its waters and played along 
its banks. Nor have we forgotten the Meeting House 
Common or the sandy slope in front of the Hall, where, 
on training days, the New Boston Artillery, now an 
institution of the past, with measured tread, martial airs 
and nodding plumes was accustomed to parade, taking 
captive our eager hearts and stirring our young spirits to 
envy and admiration. We have again labored up the sides 
of the old "hill pastures," on every square rodofwhicb, 
when boys at home, we had brushed the dew with our bare 
and battered feet, and amid whose endless perplexities of 
heap and hollow, rock, stub, thistle, bush, brake and fern, 
in hunting the cattle, or attempting to head ofl'some antic 
horse or provoking steer, our young tempers had been sub- 
jected to sorest trial. "We have been to the school house 
to see once more the oft-remembered grounds, where with 
merry voices we had so often gamed and frolicked, when 
"playful children just let loose from school;" — to the gray 
church yard, through whose solemn gateway, during these 
long years of absence, have been borne, one after another, 
the remains of those whom, in life, we had known and 
loved, to mingle with the kindred dust of three generations 
of our forefathers: — have gazed iipon the same sky which 
bent over us in infancy, still floating the summer clouds, 
in whose fleeting shadows, emblems of human life and 



glory, we accept in age the lessons rejected in youth. 
Have mused where once we plaj'cd, light of heart, beside 
the "storytelling glens and founts and brooks." Have 
looked out upon the same grand old woods; — upou the 
fields smiling in the same variegated garnitui-e; — upon 

" The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild wood, 
And every loved spot that our infancy knew." 

" The wide spreading pond and the mill that stood by it. 
The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell, 
The cot of our father, the dairy house by it, 
And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well." 

Turning from " all the landscape smiling near," familiar 
objects still remain, to which distance lends enchantment. 

Within the ample circle marked by the horizon — the 
grand and diversified panorama, the first, upon which we 
lifted our eyes — there's no feature we do not recognize — 
not a picture, not a group we do not recall — familiar 
friends, old acquaintances all. Yonder, unchanged by 
time, the Uncauoonucks, sisters of one birth, still lifting 
their graceful forms to the clouds, stand as when we first 
beheld them, the same faithful sentinels at the gates of the 
morning. From the stormy north old Kearsearge, guard- 
ing the approaches to the enchanted regions of the White 
Hills, heaves as of the old his huge and granite shoulders 
high in air. Towards the quarter whence cometh the 
summer shower, the same lofty pile still arrests the eye, as 
when driving our father's team afield, we saw the thunder 
cloud break and recoil from the assault upon his forked 
summit. Standing out against the evening sky is seen 
the same mellow outline of hills behind which, when we 
were young, the sun, as now, went down to rest, drawing 
after him the same unfading curtains of purple and gold ; 
while away in the haz}- distance beyond grand Monadnock 
towering upward in silent and solitary grandeur, bares, as 



10 

of yore, bis undaunted and imperial head to the bolting 
artillery of the skies. To the south the green slopes and 
wooded ridges of Mount Vernon, the plains of Amherst, 
the pine forests of Merrimack, now as formerlj', sleep in 
peaceful repose and blending with the less distinct landscape 
beyond, form a picture of rare and quiet beauty as it 
stretches outward and onward towards the sea. 

" 0, nature, how in every charm supreme. 
Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new, 
0, for the voice and fire of Serapliim, 
To sing thy glories with devotion due." 

Such are the external scenes and surroundings from 
which the sons and daughters of Xew Boston drew their 
early inspiration, and under the influences of which were 
shaped and tempered the elements of their growth and 
character. Nature rarely fails to impress something of 
her own features upon the children whom she nourishes 
upon her bosom. 

Where the earth rises to meet the heavens, where cata- 
racts foam and the waters leap, where, above the herds 
that graze, and the fields that bloom in the valleys below, 
the eagle wheels to his home in the cliffs, 'tis there, other 
conditions being equal, that the soul most surely " looks 
up through nature to nature's God; — that the seed of 
liberty and virtue take readiest and firmest root, and the 
abodes of men are safest from violence and plunder. 

" Nature, we owe thee much if we have felt 
Aught of the firm resolve or wish sublime, 
'Tis that we drank from thee the heavenly draught, 
And gave thy moral image to the world." 

Peculiarly gratifying as are the circumstances under 
which we meet — though fraught with so much of traditional 
interest and social inspiration, the occasion is not free from 
su2:s:estions of sadness. Of those, who have gone out 



U ILf.JIIUIJlMillt 



11 

from among 3-011 within the memory of the present gene- 
ration a part only have returned. Some who had lioped 
to mingle in our festivities have been providentially pre- 
vented. Others whose address was unknown or uncertain 
have failed of notice. Many, very many, have passed 
beyond the call of earthly friendships. As well among us 
who left as you who remained, death has done its inevitable 
work. Since last we met, who of ns all has not lost a 
friend ? Of all the famil}' circles to which we claim 
kindred, what one has remained unbroken ? Some have 
passed away in the bright morning of hope and promise, 
others have fallen in the strength and noon of life and 
labor — in the case of a few, the silver cord has remained 
unloosed until the eye becaiiie dim and the grasshopper a 
burden. 

How few of the fiithers and mothers who bowed at these 
altars and worshiped in this mountain, when we were 
young, are here to greet us to-day ! 

It is not our purpose to obtrude upon the pleasures of 
this festive season, the memory of private griefs or indi- 
vidual sorrow, of which we have all had our alloted 
share, or say aught that might open those heart-wounds 
over which time has passed his kind and healing hand. 
But there is one bereavement in which we all equally 
share, a public sorrows for the loss of one in whom, while 
living, we found a common friend and father, which forces 
itself upon our attention, and claims from the passing hour 
a tribute of Ulial recognition. To this our social jubilee 
the charm of his presence is wanting. We miss his genial 
smile, the cordial grasp of his hand, his words of affectionate 
welcome, his parental benediction. Assembled to mark 
an ei-a and commemorate so much that is local and inte- 
resting in our history as a community, it is impossible not 
to recur to the name of one, whose memory, fragrant with 
a thousand grateful recollections, looks out upon us from 



12 

every whispering tree and ancient pathway like a living 
presence, reminding- ns of the plastic and moulding genius, 
that seized upon the elements of youthful cliaracter and 
gave them the touch and tone of virtuous manhood and 
womanly grace, evolving fresh vigor as the years have 
waned. For a period of forty years, embracing two-tifths 
of the century now closing, he moved among his people 
their acknowledged head, teacher and guide, a living ex- 
emplar of whatever is pure and excellent in moral and 
Christian living. To advance your social prosperity, your 
educational interests and secure the present and eternal 
well-being of yourselves and your children, was the unsel- 
fish burden of his heart, the labor of his life. Faithful to 
every duty, public and private, failing in attention to no 
class or condition, with a wise i-eference to the great truth in 
the economy of growth, that upon the seed time depends 
the future harvest ; he took especial interest in the train- 
ing and education of the young. How vividly do we recall 
his periodical visitations to the district schools — regularly 
occurring at the beginning and again at the close of each 
term ; they were the events of our school-day years ; with 
what anxious carefulness of preparation, with what lively 
emotions of anticipated pleasure we awaited his coming. 
The young eyes turning, in spite of rules, a sly glance 
through the window, lighted up with new animation as they 
saw his approach — expectation stood on tiptoe as the well 
known knock was heard at the door, and the whole school 
rose to welcome with the affectionate homage of their 
obeisance the advent of a recognized benefactor and friend. 
No merited praise was withheld, and ci'iticism, when re- 
quired, was administered with wisdom and charity. He 
brought a kind word for all — assurance of reward for the 
diligent, encouragement for the baclcward, hope for the 
timid, a sure return of happiness for the good, and to the 
young aspirings of those of brightest promise, though clad 



13 

iu homeliest garb, were held up the attractive awards of 
future eminence and success. The performance of his 
pjarochial duties was without partiality. In visiting the 
homes of the more aiHueut he passed not by the dwellings 
of the poor. In both he was equally at home and equally 
welcome. His words always fitly spoken were as " apples 
of gold in pictures of silver " and "as nails fastened by 
the masters of assemblies." When the ear heard him 
then it blessed him, and when the eye saw him it gave 
witness to him. 

Unto him men gave ear, and, waited, and kept silence 
at his counsel. They waited for him as for the rain, and 
they opened their mouth wide as for the latter rain. 

In the house of gladness his presence and chastened 
vivacity seemed but to highten every innocent pleasure, 
and to the house of sickness and mourning he hastened to 
bear from his Master, precious words of mercy and consola- 
tion, — words which few knew so well how to administer. 

" At church, with meek and unaffected grace, 
His looks adorned the venerable place ; 
Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway. 
And fools who came to scoff, remained to pray." 

Possessed of a mind richly endowed by nature and cul- 
tivation, of conversational powers of rarest fascination, add- 
ed to a presence, at once agreeable and commanding, 
he took rank from the first among the most gifted and 
intellectual of his cotemporaries. Though eminently quali- 
fied for success in situations aftbrdins: broader ransre for 
intellectual activity and display, he was content to com- 
plete the measure of his life and ministry in the less ambi- 
tious field to which he was first called, and, at last, be laid 
to rest among the people to whom his youthful strength, 
and his earliest and only vows were given. 

Venerable man ! " none knew him but to love him, none 
named him but to praise," — and so long as the Christian 



14 

faith shall preserve this tabernacle and here maintain an 
altar, the name of Ephraim Putnam Bradfohd, shall live 
in the affectionate memory of men. 

"We have met, fellow townsmen, for a historic as well as 
social purpose — to chronicle events while we glean in the 
field of recolloctiou — to pause in the rapid round of years, 
review the past and make a record — to witness the closing 
scenes of a dying century, and raise a monument and trace 
upon it a brief inscription to its memorj-. Though the 
range of immediate inquiry is nari'ow and special, the task 
of its examination which we propose to ourselves on this 
occasion, is not devoid of general interest. The records 
of states and nations are made up from local and partial 
annals. From out just such materials as the threads and 
fragments, which the people of ]^ew Boston this day " res- 
cue from the common decay," the historic muse weaves 
with cunninsr hand the variegated web of the ages. 

The events connected with the first settlement of New 
Boston about the year 1733, and its incorporation thirty 
years later bj' the provincial government of New Hamp- 
shire, carry us back to an age in which the great thought of 
separate nationality had not been conceived, and far into 
the colonial period of American history, to a time when 
our judges sat in the ermine of Westminster Hall, and 
governors and magisti'ates ruled by commissions from the 
crown, when men were yet strong who had triumphed 
with Marlborough at Blenheim and Ramillies, and our 
martial ancestors celebrated in scarlet uniforms the imper- 
ishable anniversaries in the calendar of British glory — to 
a period before the French empire in America had been 
dissolved in the shock of battle on the plains of Abraham, 
or the brave Scottish clans who welcomed Charles Edward 
to the Highlands, had seen the last hope of the house of 
Stuart perish on the field of Cullodeu. 

Men and generations pass away, but society and the race 



15 

continue, and the cause of human progress and civilization, 
events and their logic, march steadily forward. Youth is 
renewed at the grave of age, and over tlie ruins of universal 
death new and better forms of life perpetually spring. 

Our origin as a community is involved in no obscurity. 
It is traceable in plain history, not in uncertain fable. In 
nationality, it was Scotch ; in Christianity-, Protestant ; in 
theology, Calviuistic ; in sect, Presbyterian. We trace the 
the well marked line of descent aud emigration backward, 
first to Londonderry, New Hampshire, thence to the coun- 
ties of Londonderry and Antrim, in the north of Ireland, 
and from thence to Argyleshire and Ayrshire, its source, 
in the west of Scotland. 

Than ours, few communities can claim a worthier gene- 
alogy or trace a nobler ancestral record. Though com- 
pelled to force subsistence from a reluctant soil, though 
inhabiting a land encircled by wintry seas, piled with 
mountains, roaring with torrents and wrapt in storms, the ■ 
Scottish race have achieved results and attained a rank 
which have challenged the respect and admiration of the 
world. From external fortune was fashioned the interior 
character, and both were of iron. Emerging in advance of 
most of the countries of Europe, from out the barbarism of 
the middle ages, Scotland has continued for more than 
seven centuries a historic and civilizing power among the 
nations of the earth. Like her national "thistle," bloom- 
ing for her friends and bristling to her enemies, in every 
period of her history, she has been true to her motto, 

" Nemo me impune lacessit." 

As the " ever green pine " of Clan Alpine, moored in 
the "rifted rock proof to the tempest shock," she still 
abides in immortal youth, with eye undimmed and strength 
unabated, bearing "length of days in her right hand, aud 
in her left hand, riches and lionor." In literature, science 



16 

and philosophy, notwithstanding her comparatively small 
population, the array of brilliant names she has given to 
the world is excelled by no country, ancient or modern. 

From the Tweed to the Orkneys, and from the frith of 
Tay to Loch Shiel, there is no rood of ground which the 
pen of her gifted sous has not made classical. The yearly 
pilgrimages made by poets, scholars and tourists to the 
various objects of natural grandeur and beauty with wliich 
Scotland abounds, are but the homage which taste and 
learning annually pay to the genius of Burns, of Scott, of 
Wilson and Macaulay, who, in deathless song and match- 
less prose have invested the estuaries and lochs, the moun- 
tains and glens, the banks and braes, the " heathy moors 
and winding vales " of our fatherland with life and enchant- 
ment. Katrine and Loch Lomond, Benvenue and Benan, 
the "Sweeping Nith," and "Bonny Doon," glowing afar in 
the attractions of romance, will carry down to remotest 
time the names which have made them immortal. 

The rigors of climate, the severities of labor, the pro- 
tracted conflicts to which they have been subjected, and 
through which as well as over which they have triumphed, 
joined to native force of intellect and a stern Christian 
faith, have given character to the Scotch and enabled them 
to exhibit, in everj' condition and under all vicissitudes of 
fortune, those combined qualities of valor, energy, intelli- 
gence, constancy and self-command which create success 
and exempt nations and individuals alike from the possi- 
bilities of failure. It need therefore excite no surprise 
that the inhospitable shores, the bleak mountains, the 
rocky soil and the rugged primeval forests of New Eng- 
land had no terrors for and presented no obstacles to our 
hardy ancestors. They came to their work of settlement 
and empire with fearless hearts and resolute hands, trust- 
ing alone in the favor of Heaven and their own strong- 
arms for success. 



17 

Upon the cleatli of Elizabeth, in 1603, James the Ist of 
England and 6th of Scotland sncceeded to the British 
thi'oue. During the early jieriod of his reign, he directed 
his attention to the improvement and reformation of Ire- 
land. The cruel and barbarous customs, which had pre- 
vailed among the aboriginal inhabitants, were abolished, 
and the English laws, with courts for their administration, 
were substituted in their stead. Upon the suppression of 
a revolt, which had been raised against his authority, the 
insurrectionary district, embracing the province of Ulster, 
by attainder of the rebel chiefs, reverted to the crown. 
Liberal grants of the forfeited lands were made to compa- 
nies formed in London, in aid of the roj'al scheme of 
securing the permanent pacification of the insurgent dis- 
trict by the introduction of emigrants from England and 
Scotland. Under the encouraging auspices of the crown, 
the process of colonization went rapidly forward. Indus- 
try and the arts went with the colonists. The effect pro- 
duced by the introduction of the new element among the 
native material soon vindicated the wisdom of the enter- 
prise. Violence and crime diminished, and the country 
began at once to assume the appearance of comparative 
order and civilization. The rebellion had left the ancient 
city of Deny in ruins. "With a view to its reconstruction, 
the site upon which it had stood, together with six thou- 
sand acres of adjacent lands, were granted to the city of 
London in its corporate capacity, whence the old city and 
county of Derry received the name of Londonderry. 
Emigrants from Scotland, companies of whom began to 
arrive as early as 1612, settled in the counties of London- 
derry and Antrim, which thus became for a long and 
eventful period, the home of our ancestors. During the 
three following reigns and including the period of the 
commonwealth, the colonists in L-eland continued to 
receive, from time to time, large accessions to their num- 
3 



18 

bers from amoBg their kindred and countiymen from 
England and Scotland. So that, at the commencement of 
the memorable struggle of 1688, which resulted in the 
complete dethronement of James the Second, and his final 
expulsion from the British Islands, the Protestants of 
Ulster had become, not indeed numerically, but by reason 
of superior energy, skill and intelligence, the dominant 
and controlling class in the north of L'eland. Throughout 
that reno\vned contest of arms, their zeal, endurance and 
intrepidity have never been surpassed. To their long and 
heroic defense of Londonderry, by which the French and 
L'ish armj' was for mouths batHed and delayed, and before 
which it finally rolled back over the line of its advance, 
broken and demoralized, the cause of freedom and 
Christian civilization is in no small degree indebted for 
the success of that most auspicious and happy of revolu- 
tions which brought William of Orange and Mary to the 
throne. 

Subsequent to this event and a little less than thirty years 
thereafter, one hundred and twenty families of Scotch 
descent, from the counties before mentioned, among whom 
were many who had witnessed and some who had partici- 
pated in the memorable siege, prompted chiefly by the 
hope of securing a larger measure of civil and religious 
liberty, prepared to bid a final adieu to the old world and 
try their fortune in the new. 

They left the shores of Ireland in five ships, and arrived 
at Boston, Aug. 4th, 1718. Sixteen of these families hav- 
ing obtained, from the authorities of Massachusetts, leave 
to locate upon any of the unappropriated lauds under the 
jurisdiction of that province, a township of twelve miles 
square, proceeded, during the autumn, to Casco Ba}^, with 
the design of settling in the neighborhood of what is now 
Portland ; if, upon view, a satisfactory location should be 
found. The expedition proved unsuccessful. After pass- 



19 

iiig, in the liarlior of Falmontli, a winter of unusual 
severity, tlirough wliieli tlie^- were sulijected to extreme 
sutFering, botli from cold and hunger, they started upon 
their return on the first opening of spring, and coasting 
westward, entered the mouth of the Merrimack, and 
ascending it to the head of navigation, landed at Haver- 
hill, then a frontier town, on the 2d of April, 1719. At 
this place, tlattering representations were made to them 
of a tract of country lying but a few miles northerly, to 
which, by reason of the abundance and variety of nuts 
found there, had been given the name of Nutfield. 
Thither the impatient adventurers, without delay, bent 
their weary but still resolute steps, and on the 11th of 
April, rested upon the soil of our then future London- 
derry. It was the time of spring. Xature, throughout 
all her myriad arteries, was throbbing vriih the tides of 
returning life. The wild grass was springing in the nar- 
row glades and along the margin of the streams, the 
forests of sturdy growth, swelling with preparation, were 
just ready to burst iuto verdure — and every living thing 
that had a voice joined in a general chorus of welcome to 
the vernal year. It was the season of hope, and the scene 
was one of gladness. Here the little company of emi- 
grants, weak in numbers but strong in spirit, at once 
determined to locate their grant and build their homes. 
Committing themselves and their infant enterprise to the 
keeping of that Being in whom they reverently trusted, 
they went to the work assigned them with a faith that 
never faltered and with hands that never tired. 

Had the acquisition of fame been the end at which they 
aimed, their aspirations must have been fully satisfied 
could they have seen the distinguished position they were 
destined to occupy in the domain of history. But such 
was not the ambition which led them on. 



20 

Not as the conqueror comes 

They, the true hearted came ; 

Not with the roll of the stirring drums 

And the trumpet that sings of fame. 

Not as the flying come 

In silence, and in fear : 

They shook the depths of the forest gloom 

With their hymns of lofty cheer. 



What sought they thus afar ? 
Bright jewels of the mine ? 
The wealth of seas ! the spoils of war ? 
They sought a faith's pure shrine. 

Ay, call it holy ground — 

The soil where first they trod ! 

They have left unstained what there they found — 

Freedom to worship God." 

Then and there were laid the foundations of a commu- 
nity which was destined to act a most important and 
distinguished part in the future settlement, growth and 
ti'iumphs of New Hampshire. Prosperity attended this 
colony from the beginning. The tomahawk and torch of 
the savage by which so many neighboring settlements 
had been surprised and desolated, came not near its bor- 
ders. The pestilence which had wasted so many colonies, 
averted its breath from this. For nearly or quite a half 
centiiry accessions were almost yearly made to its strength 
and numbers from the ranks of newly arrived emigrants 
of like faith and blood. The history of this community, 
from its inception, was one of uninterrupted growth and 
success. It proved a fountain from which, as well as into 
which, streams of emigration flowed. It is estimated that 
there are now living more than twenty-five thousand per- 
sons, some of whom are to be found in almost every towm 
of New England and not a few beyond its borders, who 



21 

derived their origin from this people. Windham and 
Londonderry, Vt. ; Cherry Valley, N. Y. ; "Windham, N. 
H. ; Acworth, Chester, Manchester, Bedford, New Boston, 
Antrim, Peterborough, Francestown, Goft'estown, Cole- 
rain, Heniker and Deering wei'e first settled, all of them 
largely, and several of them, including N^ew Boston, 
almost entirely by emigrants from Londonderry. Of New 
Boston, it may be said more emphatically than of any 
other town, she was the child of Londonderry. 

Many other settlements received early and important 
accessions from the same source, and notwithstanding 
these heavy drafts upon her population, the mother town- 
ship numbered within her own borders, in 1775, two thou- 
sand five hundred and ninety souls. 

Having thus briefly traced the history of the colony by 
whose sturdy sons and sterling daughters our own town 
was founded and its character and institutions formed, it 
only remains to be added, that no community within the 
limits of New Hampshire has exerted a wider or happier 
influence in shaping the destinies and advancing the 
honor of the state than Londonderry. 

Throughout the struggle of the revolution no town 
displayed greater unanimity, constancy and zeal for the 
patriot cause, or made larger contributions of men and 
means to secure its success. Thornton, Stark, Reid, 
Gregg and McCleaiy are of the men she gave to the 
cause and the country, — names which have shed imperish- 
able lustre upon the annals of the states and abide forever 
in the gratitude of a free people. 

The Grant. 

New Boston was granted, January 14th, 1736, by " the 
Great and General Court or Assembly, for His Majesty's 
province of Massachusetts Bay," to John Simpson and fifty- 
two others, inhabitants of Boston. The name New Boston, 



99 

which was suggested from the residence of the grantees, 
was first applied to the townsliip by the proprietors ou the 
16th of April, 1751, in a call for a meeting, as follows : 
" The proprietors of a township granted to John Simpson 
and others, and lying on the branches of Piscataquog 
river, known by the name of New Boston, are hereby no- 
tified," &c. 

The proj^rietors held their first meeting April 21st, 
1736, "at the house of Luke Vardy," Boston. 

In the records of their proceedings from 1736 to 1751, 
the township is variously designated, sometimes as "the 
townshij) granted to John Simpson and others," some- 
times as " the township lying on the branches of the Pis- 
cataquog river, bounded on two of the Narraganset towns, 
viz. : No. 3 and No. 5." (Amherst and Bedford), and 
again as " the new township lying on the south and mid- 
dle branches of the Piscataquog river." 

The grant was of " a township in the unappropriated 
lands of the province, of the contents of six miles square, 
with one thousand acres added for ponds," and two rods 
in each hundred " for unevenness of surf\\ce and swagg of 
chain." In pursuance of authority contained in the act 
the grant was located in February, 1736 (new style), by 
a survey made l)y Jonathan Cummings, surveyor, and 
Zacheus Lovewell and James Cummings, chainmen, ap- 
pointed and sworn for that purpose, and as thus located 
the grant was confirmed the 20th of the following March. 

For a part of tlie distance ou two sides, the survey 
bounded the township by Amherst and Bedford, then 
known as the Narraganset towns, numbers 3 and 5. The 
rest of the way the line was run through " province lands " 
by courses and monuments. The lines then established 
remain the present boundaries of the town. 

In 1746, an event occurred which occasioned no incon- 
siderable alarm, not only to the proprietors of New Boston, 



23 

but on tlie part of land owners throughout the province, 
as well, who held their grants under the government of 
Massachusetts. The claim put forth hy the Masons to the 
soil of New Hampshire, and from time to time pressed \vith 
great pertinacity and various success, had long been a 
prolific source of litigation and embarrassment. Doubts, 
which had thus been cast upon the tenure by which lauds 
were held, had necessarily tended to retard the grQ\\i:h 
and settlement of the towns. In the year last mentioned, 
John Tufton Mason, the heir of Capt. John Mason, the 
original grantee of the province, for the consideration of 
1500 pounds, sold and conveyed his title to Mark H. 
Wentworth, Theodore Atkinson, John Weutworth (son of 
Benning Wentworth, then governor) and nine otliers, 
residents of Portsmouth. These twelve persons were 
afterwards known as the "Masonian proprietors." The 
high standing of these gentlemen, their intimate relations 
to the royal government, and the uncertainty which, at 
first, prevailed in reference to their purposes, greatly 
excited and disturbed the public mind. These apjjreheu- 
sions, however, were soon dispelled. 

The coui-se taken hy the Masonian proprietors allayed all 
serious disquietude and was at once liberal and enlightened. 
They proceeded immediately to release their claims to all 
towns previously granted by Massachusetts, east of the 
Merrimack, and a few years later quit-claimed all similar 
grants west of that river. 

The union of New Hampshire with Massachusetts, 
having been dissolved five years before (1741) their title 
to the unappropriated lands was acknowledged, and of 
these lands grants were made upon just and reasonable 
terms. Thus was rapidly and fortunately settled the long 
and vexed controversy, and the title of the grantees to 
their grants and the settlers to their homes, became finally 
and satisfactorily quieted. 



24 

In May, 1751, the New Boston projirietors appointed a 
committee, consisting of Jolin Hill, Robert Boyce and 
James Halsey, to confer with the Masonian proprietors 
in reference to their "claims if any they made to the 
townsliip." Li August of the same year, Col. Joseph 
Blauchard was appointed a committee with power on the 
part of the claimants. The two committees met at Dun- 
stable, at the residence of Col. Blanchard, and such pro- 
ceedings were had and concluded, that afterwards, and in 
December following (1851), the Masonian proprietors con- 
veyed to the proprietors of New Boston the original 
township, and in addition thereto, by the same conveyance, 
made a further grant of six square miles, being an oblong 
tract four miles long by one mile and a half wide, extend- 
ing from north to south along the west bounds of the 
original to\vnship and down to the Salem-Canada or 
Lyndsborough line. In the svibsequent proceedings of 
tlie proprietors, this new grant was referred to as the 
"new addition," or "new additional land," and became 
known in the local history of the times as the " New 
Boston addition." From this addition, and a part of 
Society land, Francestown was erected and incorj^jorated 
in 1772, thus reducing New Boston to its original bound- 
aries. 

It was made one of the conditions of the original grant 
that the town should be laid out " into sixty-three equal 
shares, one of which to be for the first settled minister, 
one for the ministry and one for the schools." This 
would give to each share or lot about four hundred acres. 
Though, for greater convenience, the Massachusetts grant 
was divided into lots of 150 acres each, and the new addi- 
tion into lots of 100 acres, the condition, imposed and 
accepted, was faithfully fulfilled, and the required quan- 
tity of land set apart and sacredly devoted to each of the 
objects specified. 



25 

In this connection let it be remembered once for all, 
that whenever and wherever the jiioneers of New Eng- 
land went to open up the forests and cast in their lot, they 
carried with them, as the a;rand agencies in the work of 
settlement and civilization, the Christian church and the 
common school. These instrumentalities lose none of 
their importance bv change of condition or lapse of time. 
Thev are continuing and unalterable necessities. And 
here and now, as the last sands of a century fall and dis- 
appear, and speaking for the first and doubtless for the 
last time to the people among whom we were reared and 
for whom affectionate memories have been retained, we 
pause to declare, as the result of our deepest convictions, 
that neither yourselves nor those who shall come after you, 
have any sure promise for the life that now is or the life 
which is to come, except as you and they shall value and 
cherish these twin institutions of grace and knowledge left 
by our fiithers in solemn charge. 



The Settlement. 

In meagre and imperfect notices of Xew Boston which 
we find in various gazetteers to which access has been had, 
and which are little more than mere copies of each other, 
and traceable doubtless to the same original source of in- 
formation, it is said that the first settlement was begun 
about the year 1733. The statement rests upon no sutfi- 
cient authority. It is possible that some adventurer in 
quest of game or for purposes of exploration may have 
found his way hei-e and erected within the limits of the 
township a temporary cabin, as early as the year indicated, 
but it is believed that no permanent settlement was begun 
until several years later. In 17-41 New Hampshire was 
separated finally from Massachusetts, and became an in- 
dependent province. Benniug Wentworth was appointed 
4 



26 

governor, which office he continued to hold until 1767, 
when he was succeeded bj^ his nephew John Wentworth. 
Upon the organization of the new government in 1741, 
the 'New Boston proprietors appointed a committee " to 
wait upon the government and acquaint them that we are 
the proprietors of tlie land by virtue of a grant from Mas- 
sachusetts, that we are going on to settle the same, and 
have expended already by way of promoting settlements 
and improvements over two thousand pounds." From 
this general statement it would appear that at this date 
some "small beginnings" had been made, but these are 
believed to have been very inconsiderable. 

The enterprise was one of hardships and difficulty. The 
forests growths were dense and heavy, the surface broken 
and hilly, the soil rocky and stern. Surveys and allot- 
ments had to bo made, roads opened, bridges thrown 
across the streams and provisions and materials brought 
long distances by tedious stages over rough and unwoi'ked 
ways; and notwithstanding the proprietors, besides direct 
donations of land and grants of special privileges, had 
expended, from time to time, very considerable sums of 
money in aid of general improvements, and with a view 
of securing an early settlement, for several years the 
progress made, seems to have been slow and doubtful. It 
was not i;ntil as late as 1750 that such substantial begin- 
nings had been made as insured the complete success of the 
enterprise. At this period the tide of Scotch-Irish mind 
and muscle from Londonderry begun to set in, and from 
thence the growth of New Boston went steadily and rapidly 
forward, until the town i-eached its maturity in 1820. The 
first census of the settlement was taken under the authority 
of tlie proprietors in 175G, and is the earliest reliable re- 
cord to be found. September 24th 1754 the proprietors 
met at the " Ko^-al Exchange tavern in King street " (now 
State), Boston, " kept by Capt. Robert Stone," and appoint- 



27 

ed Col. John Hill unci Robert Jenkins a committee with 
directions " to view the settlements at New Boston town- 
ship, and make report of the same to the proprietors." 

In the summer of 1756, the committee visited the "set- 
tlements," and on the 11th of November of the same year, 
submitted their report to the proprietors at a meeting called 
" to receive the report of the committee who have been 
up to view the settlements in said town, and to dispose of 
such forfeited rights as the proj^rietors shall think proper." 
By this report it appears there were at the time of its date 
(Sept. 25th, 1756), within the limits of the township, 59 
persons, namely, 26 men, 11 women, 9 boys, and 13 girls. 
There were 215 acres of laud cleared, 32 houses completed, 
6 frames not enclosed, 2 camp houses and one barn, one 
saw mill, and "one grain mill and dam complete." Two 
men had "gone to the war" — one man was sick — one 
male child and two female children had been born in the 
town. The following, as well as we have been able to 
ascertain, are the names of the 26 men, and which are 
believed to be nearly or quite accurate. Thomas Smith, 
John Smith, Samuel Smith, James Ferson, John Blair, 
William Blair, Thomas Cochran, James Cochran, Abraham 
Cochran, Robert Cochran, Samuel Cochran, "William 
McNeil, John Burns, Andrew Walker, Robert Walker, 
Isaac Walker, James Hunter, John McAlister, George 
Christie, Thomas Wilson, James Wilson, James Caldwell, 
William Gray, Allen Moore, William Moore, and Robert 
Boyce. The darks, the McLaughlins, the McMillens, 
the Livingstons, the McCoUums, the Greggs, the Kelsos, 
the Campbells, and the Dodges came soon after. 

Eleven years later, 1767, by order of Governor Went- 
worth, the selectmen of the various towns within his juris- 
diction were required to make and return during the year, 
a census of their respective towns. The census made in 
pursuance of this authority was the first general and com- 



28 

plete one taken of the province, and contains many curious 
and valuable statistics. The returns for New Boston 
showed the following particulars : unmarried men, be- 
tween the ages of 16 and 60, 25 ; married men, between 
the same ages, 41 ; boys, 16 and under, 92 ; men, 60 and 
above, 6; females, unmarried, 80 — married, 47; male 
slaves, 1 ; female slaves, 2 ; widows, 3 : total population, 
296. Who 44 of these adult males were, may be seen 
by reference to the list of names appended to the call, pre- 
sented to the Rev. Solomon Moor, August 25th of the 
same year. It is an interesting fact, that of the 41 male 
heads of families in town, nearly all must have united in 
the call. 

At this period (1767,) there were thirty-one towns in 
the province represented in the house of representatives, 
which consisted of thirty-one members, and held its ses- 
sions at Portsmouth, the seat of the royal government. 

A third census was taken at the beginning of the revo- 
lution in 1775. It was made after the retirement of the 
royal government, and under the direction of the pro- 
visional convention assembled at Exeter in the spring 
of that year. This census was also general, extending 
throughout the province, and was intended, in addition 
to securing a correct enumeration of the inhabitants, to 
obtain more accurate information with reference to the 
temper and defensive resources of the towns. The result 
for this town was thus given : males under 16, 164; males 
from 16 to 50, not in the armj-, 98 ; males over 50, 27 ; 
persons in the army, 20 ; females of all ages, 256 ; negroes 
and slaves for life, 4 : total population, 569. It is grati- 
fying to iind that New Boston was not behind her sister 
towns in eifective aid to the patriot cause, having furnished, 
during the first weeks of the war, more than one-sixth of 
her male population, between the ages of 16 and 50, as 
recruits to the army. 



29 

lu 1790, the number of inhabitauts iu the town had 
increased to 1,202; in 1800 to l,4Jn; in 1810 it was 1,619, 
and in 1820 it reached l,f>86. At this period the tovai 
attained its greatest population, if not to its highest condi- 
tion of prosperity. There were within its limits 16 school 
districts, 14 school houses, 1 tavern, 3 stores, 25 saw mills, 
6 grain mills, 2 clothing mills, 2 carding mills, 1 bark mill, 
and 2 tanneries. In the number of saw mills, Xew Boston, 
at that time, exceeded any other towni in the state. The 
river valley and the neighborhood of the lesser streams 
abounded with pines of clear and lofty growth, and the 
lumbering business earlj- became an impoi'tant interest, and 
was largely and profitably prosecuted for many years. 



The Incorporation. 

The town was incorporated by the government of New 
Hampshire, February 18th, 1763. By the charter, which 
bears the sign manual and additions of "Benning Weut- 
worth, Esq., Governor and Commander-in-Chief of the 
Province of New Hampshire," and "Attested," "Theo- 
dore Atkinson, Jun., Sec," "John Goft'e, Esq.," was 
appointed and directed to call the tirst town meeting. 
The meeting was required to be held within twenty days 
after the date of the charter; the time, place and objects 
of the meeting to be specified in the notice. Tiie charter 
contained the farther provision that from and after the 
tirst election, "the annual meeting of said town for choice 
of officers and the management of its affiiirs, should be 
held within said town on the first Monday of March in 
each year." From that day to this, " March meeting" has 
remained one of the " institutions" of New Boston. In 
pursuance of the authority delegated. Col. GotFe proceeded 
at once to execute the duty assigned. The call specified 
as objects of the meeting: 1st. "To choose all their town 



30 

ojSicers for the year ensuing as the law directs. 2nd. To 
see what money the town will raise to defray the charge 
of the town and ixiy for preaching to the inliabitants for 
the year ensuing." The meeting was held in pursuance 
of the notice, March lOtli (1763), at the house of Deacon 
Thomas Cochran, about a mile easterly of the present busi- 
ness centre of the town. Deacon Cochran was the great 
grand-father of your worthy townsman, William Cochran, 
was one of the iirst settlers, and took a leading and useful 
part in the early aftairs of the to\vn and of the church. 
The ample homestead, which he founded and left, has con- 
tinued in the possession of his descendants to the present 
time. 

The record of this first town meeting is as follows : 

" Moderator, Thomas Cochran. 

" Voted, Alexander McCollum, Town Clerk. 

" Voted, There shall be five selectmen : Thomas Cochran, 
James McFerson, Nathaniel Cochran, John McAllister, 
John Carson, Selectmen. 

" Voted, Thomas Wilson, Constable. 

" Voted, Matthew Caldwell, John Smith, James Wilson, 
George Christy, Thomas Brown, Surveyors of Highways. 

" Voted, Abraham Cochran, Samuel Nickles, Tithing 
Men. 

" Voted, William Gray, John Burns, Hog Reeves. 

" Voted, John Carson, James Hunter, Deer KeejJers. 

" Voted, John Cochran, Invoice man, or Commissioner of 
Assessments. 

" Voted, That a pound shall be built by the corn mill, 
and that Deacon Thomas Cochran shall be Pound Master. 

" Voted, Matthew Caldwell, James Wilson, Accountants 
to e.Ta)nine accounts of Selectmen. 

" Voted, To raise 100 pounds to defray charges for 
present year and for preaching." 



31 

It -will be seen that several of the offices filled at this 
election, had become, in the new condition of the people, 
entirely useless. The fact that these time-honored places 
of dignity were not sntFered to remain vacant furnishes an 
amusing as well as forcible illustration of the power of 
ancient forms and old institutions to which the minds 
of men have long been accustomed. The next year the 
number of selectmen was reduced to three, which has 
since remained unchanged. The two succeeding "March 
meetings " — those of 1764 and 1765 — were held at the 
house of John McLaughlin. That of 1766 was held in 
the " meeting house." This occurred on the 3d of March, 
and was the first annual town meeting convened in that 
building, and indicates about the time of its completion. 
From tliis time forward for a period of nearly three quar- 
ters of a century, the annual and Imsiness meetings of the 
town continued to be held within its walls, and until the 
venerable old edifice, hallowed by so many interesting and 
sacred associations, yielded at last to the innovations of 
time and disappeared from its place. Those who are 
curious to learn what became of the quaint old pile, and 
to know the ample timbers and honest materials of which 
it was composed, will find the objects of their inquiries art- 
fully disguised under the outward seeming of a modern 
town house. 

In tliis connection it may not be uninteresting to know 
something of " John Gofte, Esq.," the person who as 
already stated appeared here in Februaiy, 1763, to aid in 
organizing the town. His life was an eventfiil one, and 
viewed at this distance possesses much of romantic inter- 
est. He commenced life as a hunter, and located in Derry- 
field, at or near the junction of the Cohos brook with the 
Merrimack river. Later in life he removed to Bedford, 
in wliosc soil his ashes now rest in honor. In favor ^\•ith 
the Wentworths, he was early advanced to places of public 



32 

trust. Of deep religious convictions lie was accustomed, 
for want of a licensed ministry, to lead assemblies of the 
people in public worship. In 1746, he was sent in com- 
mand of a company of militia to the frontier, against the 
Indians. As lieut. colonel commanding a detachment of 
the New Ilanijishirc regiment, he was at Ticonderoga. At 
the opening of the campaign of 1757, and in August of the 
same year, was present at the surrender of Fort William 
Henry to the French. Promoted to the rank of colonel, 
at the head of eight hundred men, he joined the campaign 
which resulted in the conquest of Canada, in 1760. In 
1767, he represented Amherst and Bedford in general 
court. In 1768, was made colonel of the old 9th regiment 
of Kew Hampshire militia. He was the iirst judge of 
probate of the county of Hillsborough, which office he 
held from 1771 to 1776. Brave, genial and capable, he 
was largely trusted and universally beloved. At the 
breaking out of the revolution, he had become too infirm 
to take the field, but casting his martial mantle on his 
son, who wore it not unworthily, he gave his heart and 
his pen to the cause of his country. Long and honorably 
associated with the more prominent and stirring events in 
the early history of the towns bordering on our own, the 
addition of a passing word to the record of his fame, was 
not deemed unbecoming the occasion. 

During the revolutionary period, if we may judge from 
the character of her representative men, New Boston was 
neither indifferent or unfaithful to the cause of independ- 
ence. In the first provincial congress, as it was called, 
which met at Exeter, in May, 1775, and over which Mat- 
thew Thornton presided, the town was represented by 
Thomas Wilson. The second congress, which met in 
December of the same year, resolveditself into two bodies, 
a council and house of representatives. The first coun- 
cil being chosen by and from the representative body, and 



33 

afterwards lioth branches were elected by the people. 
The government thus instituted continued during the war 
and until superseded by the jjcrmanent government of 
]!Tew Hampshire, in 1784. The House consisted of eighty- 
nine members, of which the county of Hillsborough was 
entitled to seventeen. To this branch of the legislature, 
New Boston and Franeestown united in sending one 
representative. Li 1770, Capt. Benjamin Dodge, of New 
Boston, was chosen. In 1777 and 1778, Archibald Mc- 
Millen, of New Boston. For the two following sessions, 
William Starrett, of Franeestown. In 1780, James Cald- 
well, of New Boston. Li a delegated convention which 
assembled at Concord, in September, 1779, to consider 
the state of the currency, then an absorbing question, 
William Livingston sat as representative for the town. It 
is a matter for congratulation, that, on this occasion of 
historic interest and review. New Boston may recall with 
just pride, and after the lapse of more than foui'-fifths of 
a century, the character of the men whom she honored 
and trusted in those years of public anxiety and peril. 

Churches and Church Edifices. 
The Presbyterian church and society was the first and 
for a long period, the only religious organization in town. 
This organization is known to have been as early as 1768, 
there can be little doubt it was formed some years earlier. 
The first settled minister was the Rev. Solomon Moor. 
Mr. Moor was born in Newtown-Limavady, Ireland, in 
1736 ; graduated at the Universit}' of Glasgow, 1758 ; was 
licensed to preach by the presbytery of Londonderry, Ire- 
land, July 26th, 1762; ordained a "minister at large" in 
1766, and soon after sailed for America and arrived at 
Halifax in October of the same j-ear. Making but a brief 
stay at the latter place, he proceeded to Boston, where he 
5 



34 

delivered his first sermon in America, from the pulpit of 
the Eev. Mr. Moorhead. The following Sabbath, preached 
for the Rev. Mr. McGregore, at Londonderry west parish, 
and in February, 1767, came to New Boston with letters 
of commendation from the Eev. William Davidson, pastor 
of the first church in Londonderry. Cordialh^ and grate- 
fully welcomed by the j^eople, he at once commenced 
among them the work of the ministry, and on the 25th of 
August following, received an unanimous call to become 
their pastor. Continuing his labors he lield the call under 
advisement nearly a year, and until July 1st, 1768, when 
he gave in his acceptance, and the relation of pastor and 
people was solemnized by his public installation on the 
6th of September foUo^'ing. 

The relation thus formed continued unbroken until his 
death, which occurred May 28th, 1803, at the age of sixty- 
seven. His ministry proved a useful and acceptable one, 
and embraced a period of thirty-six years. In 1770, Mr. 
Moor was married to Ann Davidson, daughter of Rev. 
William Davidson, before mentioned. This estimable 
lady, whose memory is associated with whatever is grate- 
ful in social and Christian charities, found favor in the 
eyes of the people with whom she had come to cast in her 
responsible lot, and retained it to the close of life. She 
sur%-ived her husband many years, and widely and respect- 
fully known to old and young as " Madam Moor," linger- 
ed among us until within the present generation, receiving 
from all ■who approached lier the aftectionate homage due 
to her station and virtues. As, at the end of a long sum- 
mer day the sun retires slowly and eahuly to rest through 
the mild glories of evening, so, full of years of right living, 
closes the life of the aged good. 

At the time of ^Ir. Moor's settlement he boarded in the 
family of Mr. Robert White, who lived on the crown of 
the hill a few rods northeasterly of where Abraham Was- 



35 

sou HOW resides. In this connection the town records 
have this entry : 

"August 15, 1768, Province of New Hampshire. 
At a legal meeting of the inhabitants of New Boston. 
Voted, Thomas Cochran, 3Iodera(or. 
Voted, Robert A\liite provide entertainment for ministers 
at the installment of the Rev. Mr. Moor and bring in his 
charge to the town." 

The earlier records of the corporate meetings of the 
town, both annual and special, abound in entries of kin- 
di-ed character, touching the affairs of the church, show- 
ing that for many years the business of the town and 
temporalities of the church were ecpially regarded as 
matters of the same general and common concern. That 
there was anything improper in the union seems not to 
have been suggested. Those interested in the town were 
not less interested in the church. The supporters of the 
one included the supporters of the other, — woven together 
in harmony and apparently without seam, hy those of one 
faith and mind, the two grew and expanded as associated 
interests, without rent or discord. In all this, there was 
no offence to conscience or disregard of the voluntary 
principle so long as there were none to be aggrieved, and 
all continued of the same mind. In the process of time, 
as other religious elements wei'e introduced and a sister 
church of different denominational faith came to be 
organized, the practice alluded to yielded to the changed 
relations of the people. In connection with the pulpit of 
the Presbyterian society, it remains only to be added, 
that in May, 1805, Mr. Bradford, whose life has already 
passed into history, commenced his public labors as a 
candidate, and on the 2Gth of February, 1800, was ordained 
and installed as the successor of Mr. Moor. 



36 

The Baptist eliurcli and society was organized in 'Nov., 
1799, and in 1804 took the name of " The Calvinistic 
Baptist Church in New Boston." Its first honse of wor- 
ship was erected in 1805, in the Avesterly part of the town, 
a distance of about three miles from the lower village, 
where its present church editice is located. The first set- 
tled minister was the Rev. Isaiah Stone. He commenced 
his labors with the church in 1801, and on the 8th of Jan- 
uary, 1806, was installed as its pastor. His installation, 
as will be seen, was the same year and a few weeks earlier 
than that of Mr. Bradford. He continued his pastoral 
relations until 1824, and was succeeded by j'our distin- 
guished townsman, the Rev. John Atwood, afterwards 
and for many years honorably occupied with the duties of 
public life in the department of politics. 

It would seem to have been the intention of the pro- 
prietors of New Boston at an early period to build up a 
centre of trade and population on " the plains " in the 
north easterly quarter of the township. The reasons 
which induced this contemplated enterprise are now only 
conjectural. Whatever they may have been, the plan of 
erecting a meeting house and group of dwellings in that 
neighborhood was actually undertaken and partially exe- 
cuted as early as 1740. "We find the subject of completing 
the meeting house specified as one of the objects of a meet- 
ing of the proprietors called for the 15th of May, 1751, and 
after an interval of more than ten years. The uncompleted 
structure, however, was never finished or used as a place of 
worship. It was soon found that a location so remote 
from the geographical centre of the town was unfavorable 
to the settlement of the whole grant, and the enterprise 
was abandoned. Of this attempted settlement little more 
is known. AVliether the buildings, supposed to have been 
some sixty in number, none of which appear ever to have 
been either completed or occupied, were left to decay 



37 

upon the spot where they were hastily thrown together, 
or were consumed by lire, or wholly or partial^ removed 
for use elsewhere, or what were the motives which origin- 
ally prompted the undertaking other than to save a possi- 
ble forfeiture by forcing a technical compliance with the 
tiiree years limitation of the grant, are questions to which 
no satisfactory answers can be made, and in reference to 
which no certain trace or reliable tradition remains. 

The first church edifice built in town, used as a place 
of public worship, was the one to wiiich allusion has been 
made in a previous connection, and known since the erec- 
tion of the new structure in 182-3 as the " old meeting 
house." It stood on the northern slope of the hill and 
overloooking the river valley, a few rods south and above 
the burying ground. It was built by Ebenezer Beard, 
under contract with the proprietors, by whom the plan 
and specifications were furnished. It was begun as early 
as 1764, and completed in July or August 1767, and about 
the time the call to Mr. Moor bears date. 

The commencement of the work was greatly delayed in 
consequence of difficulty or indecision with reference to 
the question of location. Becoming satisfied from the 
report of the committee of visitation, in 1756, that the 
" settlements " would prove a success, the proprietors pro- 
ceeded immediately to appoint a committee with instruc- 
tions "to fix on a place in or near the centre of the town, 
for the public worship of God ; and also, for a public bury- 
ing place, as they shall think most suitable, for the whole 
community." 

The only record left to us of the action of this commit- 
tee is comprehended in the brief entry: '■'■Fixed on lot cSl." 
This lot embraced Buxton Hill, an eminence on the 
north side of the river, corresponding to that on the south, 
upon which the site was afterwards located, and is sup- 
posed to have been the place selected. No action appears 



38 

to have beeu taken on the report of this committee, if 
indeed any formal report was ever snbinitted, and the 
question still remained an open one. In 1762, a more 
successful effort was made. The proprietors, for the con- 
venience of the inhabitants, and in order to secure greater 
facilities for general consultation and interchange of view's, 
held a meeting at the house of Thomas Cochran, and 
appointed a new committee consisting of Matthew Patten, 
John Chamberlain and Samuel Patten, with directions 
" to select a spot for a meeting house, in the most conve- 
nient place, to build a meeting house or place of public 
worship thereon, and report as soon as possible." At this 
meeting Allen ^loore, George Christy, John McAlister, 
James Hunter, Thomas Wilson, Thomas Cochran, and 
James Caldwell, residents of the town, are named as hav- 
ing been present and participating in its proceedings. In 
July follovdng (1763), the committee having unanimously 
agreed upon a location, submitted their conclusions in 
writing, in which they state that " they had viewed several 
places and heard the reasonings of the proprietors and 
inhabitants of said town, and do report to the proprietors 
that the lot No. 79 in the second division and near the 
centre of the lot on the south side of the Piscataquog river, 
south of a red oak tree marked with the letter C, near the 
grave of a child buried there, is the most proper place or spot 
to biiild a meeting house on in town, according to our 
judgment." 

The report was at once adopted, and the question of 
location settled accordingly ; and in September, the same 
committee were further authorized to enter into contract 
on behalf of the proprietors, with " some suitable person, 
for building the meeting house already voted, as soon as 
may be." Thus, after repeated delays and disappoint- 
ments, more or less inseparable from all new beginnings, 
the settlers were now able to look forward to a speedy 



39 

realization of what from tlie tirst tlicyhad steadily sought 
and devoutly wished, an appropriate house of public wor- 
ship and a settled ministiy. 

That portion of the present graveyard, tirst used as a 
burial ground, was set apart for that purpose about the 
date at which the church site was lixed upon. The south- 
erly bounds were run so as to include the new made grave 
mentioned in the committee's report, thus making it the 
first within the sacred iuclosnre. ^Hiose was next is not 
known or now ascertainable. The earliest inscription is 
that on the stone erected to the memory of the first town 
clerk, Mr. Alexander McCollum, and bears date in 1768. 

As connected with our own early history, and jirinci- 
pally because it is our own, how interesting and suggest- 
ive is the allusion to that first little grave. The emotions 
excited are mingled with pleasiu'able sadness as well as 
awakened inquiry. ^\Taence this child, its name, its age, 
its parentage, was not stated and is not kuown. Its story 
and its remains rest in a common silence, to be revealed 
together at the last. Though the tenant be nameless, the 
tenement has a history which will 1)e read with interest 
bj' generations coming after us. 

The " red oak marked with the letter C " as a monu- 
ment of location, stood where the old south gate of the 
yard was situated, and the raised sod which was "near" 
points the spot, in the bosom of that ample slope, where 
now "heaves the earth in man}* a mouldering heap," fii'st 
disturbed to sepulchre our dead. The site for the burial 
place was well chosen ; commanding a view of both villa- 
ges, the river and the prospect beyond, and capable of 
indefinite extension, it possesses rare natural advantages 
for the uses to which it has been consecrated. Within 
our recollection, it has been much enlarged and improved, 
and with a growth of ornamental trees spreading their 
green ilrapery over the bare surface and the naked marble, 



40 

and bringing with them the melody of birds and all the 
grateful and varied charms of the grove, it would become 
the most delightful as it is now the most sacred feature of 
the town. 

The early records of the to^vnship disclose an isolated 
instance relating to the legal modes formerly observed in 
making delivery of lands, which deserves mention. In 
1756, certain lots were forfeited by the action of the 
proprietors for failure on the part of purchasers to fulfill 
the conditions of their several agreements. At .a meet- 
ing of the proprietors, "William McXeil and Thomas 
Cochran, Jr., of ITew Boston, and William Gibson, 
of Litchfield, were constituted a committee to make de- 
livery, by " turf and twidge," of the forfeited lands, to 
Thomas Cochran, Sen., acting for the proprietors. This 
ancient ceremony was actually gone through with, and 
has this ex]^)lanation. In the transfer of real property 
under the feudal laws of Great Britain, investiture of 
title, or livery of seizeu as it was called, was made by 
the parties going upon the land, and the feotfer (grantor) 
delivering to the feolfee (grantee) "the ring of the door 
or turf or twig of the laud," in the name of the whole. 
This mode of delivery has long since gone into disuse ; 
the simple delivery of the deed or conveyance being all 
that is necessary in order to invest the title. 

In attempting within the limits imposed l>y the proprie- 
ties of the occasion, a historical sketch of the township, 
little more could be done than to present a mere outline 
of principal events, and afl:brd here and there an oc- 
casional glance into its interior life. To me, personally, 
the task, though undertaken with some disadvantages, 
has been a pleasant one, and I only regret that it has not 
been better and more thoroughly performed. For the 
honor done me by the generous assignment of this duty, 
my wai'mest thanks are due and these are given. 



41 

The point of interest 'W'ith us, as wntli yon, baa been 
the early settlers, the events they shaped, the ends at which 
thej' aimed, the obstacles overcome and the results they 
accomplished. To these fathers of the town we owe 
a deep debt of gratitude, and it was fitting that we should 
recognize it in this united and public manner. They 
were, indeed, men of no ordinary mould — men, in whom 
was united that relative measure of faith and works, of 
purpose and action hy which victories, whether of war or 
peace, are compelled. While profoundly acknowledging 
a superintending providence to which all human instru- 
mentalities were subordinate, they recognized in the right 
and resolute use of their own powers, the appointed 
means for carrying forward the enterprises and securing 
the purposes of life. With such, success depends upon 
no other conditions — against such, no fancied lions hold 
the way — with such, there can be no failure — failure 
itself is victory. If such were our fathers, our mothers 
were not less equal to the demands of the situation. 
These, content with their rugged lot, shared the cares and 
toils of their husbands, and in the spirit of true female 
heroism met and overcame the numberless privations and 
severities which pertained to life in the new settlements. 
Superior to every trial, and ai'med for any extremes of 
fortune, they present in their lives noble models for the 
imitation of American mothers. Like the virtuous woman 
of the sacred proverb, whose price is estimated above 
rubies : 

They sought wool and flax, and worked willingly with 
their hands. 

They rose also while it was yet night, and gave meat to 
their households, and a portion to their maidens. 

They laid their hands to the spindle, and their hands 
held the distaff. 

6 



42 

Tliey stretched out tlieir hands to the poor, and reached 
forth their hands to the needy. 

They were not afraid of the snow for then- househohls, 
" knowing their households were clothed with the scarlet 
cloth of their weaving." 

They made fine linen and sold it. Strength and honor 
were their clothing. 

They opened their mouths with wisdom, and in their 
tongues was the law of kindness. 

They looked well to the ways of their households, and 
ate not the bread of idleness ; and their children, as we 
do this day, rose up and called them blessed. 

Said the settlers in their invitation to Mr. ]\Ioor, " from 
a very small, in a few years, we are increased to a consid- 
erable number, and the wilderness by God's kind influ- 
ences, in many places amongst us, has become a beautiful 
field aftbrding us a comfortable maintainance." "Wliile 
this is the language of humble dependence, it is also the 
language of appropriate congratulation, of conscious suc- 
cess and Christian self-reliance. In scarcely more than a 
quarter of a century from the time the first clearing was 
opened to the sun, individuals had united into families, and 
families into neighborhoods, and neighborlioods into a 
stable and flourishing community. The triumphs of asso- 
ciated industrj- and enterprise were visible on every band, 
and their extent and rapid achievement attested tlie quali- 
ties of the race from which the fathers and mothers of New 
Boston sprung. Flocks grazed in abundant pastures, the 
orchard bloomed in its season, the red clover scented the 
summer air, fields of yellow grain nodded in the harvest 
winds, the ^vl■en, sweet bird of rural peace, from her perch 
by the farmhouse welcomed the dawn with joyous song, and 
the robin, following the abodes of cultivated life, poured 
forth her evening carol to the setting sun. With these cvi- 



(leiiccis of prosperity and coiitoiitmeut ciuue the "New 
England Sabbath," with its calm stillness, its faithful les- 
sons, and sacred solemnities, proclaiming the presence of 
a devout colony already rejoicing in the more precious in- 
stitutions of a Christian civilization, and looking forward 
to a posterity to whom they might safely commit the 
keeping of their faith and'their inheritance. 

Did time jiermit, it would be alike pleasant and instruct- 
ive to enter upon a brief review of the scenes of toil and 
activity, as well as some of the more stirring events of 
local and public interest, which attended the growth and 
development of this people, but we may not trespass 
farther upon your generous forbearance. 

This centennial occasion, with its pleasures and duties, 
hastens to a conclusion, and in a few brief liours will be 
numbered among the events of the past. Soon we shall 
again separate, and in our allotted [ilaccs and various call- 
ings resume the journey and burdens of life, and while 
all which we shall accomplish in what remains of mortal 
activity will be less than a unit in the grand summary of 
events which shall complete the measure of the coining 
century, the transactions of to-day, it may be reasonably 
hoped, will live on and live after us. The history we in- 
dite as a tril)ute of gratitude to the past we leave as an 
offering to the future. Though the gift be unpretending, 
it \\ill be eagerly accepted and gratefully cherished by 
every true son of the soil, whatever fortunes betide him 
and wherever he may make his later home. 

Time, measured by the changes wrought upon us and 
and ours, is remorseless and fleeting. Individuals die and 
are forgotten, and brevity and mutability are written upon 
all that is outward and personal in human life. On the 
world's broad stage, both the scenes and actors are con- 
stantly shifting, but upon the great drama the curtain never 
falls. AMiat, though amid the revolution of the centuries 



H 



LIBRfiRY OF CONGRESS 

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generations come and go, and peace and war follow each 
other in protracted alternation ; what though continents 
are now calm and now convulsed, and the armies of light 
and darkness seem to wage uncertain conflict; what 
though storms assail the nohlest fabrics of social wisdom, 
and at times comes "the winter of our discontent," in 
wliieh the greenest leafage of our moral summer may fade 
and fall — the race, with all its transcendaut interests and 
hopes, untouched in its life and unity, shall remain firm 
in its destiny, and the cause of truth, working out a full 
and free civilization, -R-ill move steadily onward, however 
thrones may crumble and empires perish, until the nations 
of mankind, perfected through discipline and trial, shall 
pass at length into the tranquil glories of the promised 
millennium. 




Mil 




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Hollinger 

pH S3 

MiU Run F03'2193 



